


Listen, be my sweetheart

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Series: Marie Ships it All Shorts 2020 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Protective Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: They may have met through Bucky's job as an Elite of New York Escort boy - overgrown twink category - but it was always going to be more than that between him and Tony. Of course it was, right? Tony had to know that too. Or maybe he didn't.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Marie Ships it All Shorts 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649596
Comments: 10
Kudos: 137
Collections: 2019 WinterIron_Holiday_Exchange





	Listen, be my sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Potrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/gifts).



> Hey! So this is a gift for our amazing mod Potrix and I sincerely hope you like this. I'm kinda sorry I took this fabulous excuse for porn of a prompt and turned it into this mess of feels but inspiration will do that to you ^^ _and_ I'll definitely be revisiting this verse with a prequel of sorts when the holiday madness season is over, promise :)

The empty glass clanked on the glass-top table. 

  
_"We need to talk, you in the penthouse?"_

  
Tony stared at his phone, that was all he saw, all he could see even when his eyes closed without him realizing it. The letters doubled, tripled, all over the place, script letters dancing behind his eyelids, printed on his retina and his brain providing the memory of James' voice to make up for the silence of text messages. 

  
He took a sip from his glass, then another, then gulped it down whole and got up, jerky step after jerky step taking him to his bar. He didn't bother refilling the empty glass but took another one out of the cupboard and poured into it instead, watching as the ember liquid filled the glass, not as steadily as it should, but he didn't see it. 

  
_"We need to talk, call me back."_

  
Two days. Two days he'd been avoiding answering that one text, and the second, and the third. Two days he'd spent here, staring into the void, or into his own eyes in the bathroom, or into the blackness of his pillow as he passed out, again, not registering the fact that it was another day of his life coming to pass. 

  
_"Fuck this. I'm coming over."_

  
He hadn't seen that last one since his phone was still on the coffee table as it beeped in. Tony only frowned at the noise, but didn't move from the counter he was now leaning on with his full weight. He caught his reflection in the clear aluminum splashback, distorted and gray, but him nonetheless and Tony snorted. He didn't know why. 

  
Tony didn't hear it, the way the doors of his private elevator swished open. He didn't hear the ding of the floor indicator. He didn't hear James take a deep breath immediately followed by a hiss. His body though? His body caught all the sensory shifts around him. 

  
He turned around instinctively, his mind out of commission for the time being, it seemed. His eyes widened slightly when, to his own reflection and the mirage-memory of his texts, James himself, or rather, two of him, appeared in his field of vision. 

  
"Well, _hello_ there!" Tony said, too loud in the silent room, too loud in the face of James' stance.

  
James said something that got muffled by his hands as he rubbed his face roughly. 

  
"What was'at?" Tony grinned wildly, desperately hoping to mask what he was feeling - he had rarely felt this down. 

  
"What the _fuck_ are you doing, Tony?"

  
Even that hurt, _Tony_ , not _Anthony_ \--

  
" _Tony_ , uh?" He said, unaware of the tears that filled his eyes other than for their consequence of troubling his vision some more. "Tony…" he whispered, watching the floor carefully as he finally let go of the counter to go back to the couch, his half-empty glass in hand and his heart pounding. "M'havin' a little party of one, wanna join?" He winked at the floor, swaying on his feet but startling all the same when James was there, steadying him as he almost tripped. 

  
He looked up, stricken with a new wave of sadness, something he thought he'd numbed enough as he drank, and slept, and repeat. 

  
James' eyes looked so blue, so close, so big and earnest, and he couldn't look into them, couldn't face what he knew would be coming, couldn't accept one more failure. Tony closed his eyes, the thickness of his tears flowing beneath his lashes. There was no point in trying to stop them, even if he'd cared enough, James would have seen them. He was good at that. 

  
He was good at a lot of things. 

  
He was too good for Tony. 

  
"Lemme go," he said, his voice barely audible enough for James to pick up on its brokenness. 

  
Tony flailed a bit so James' hands would let go of his own arm and waist. He pushed against James' front, pushed as hard as he could so the younger man would let him go fall on his face on the couch - the only thing he felt like doing, the plushness of the cushions the only thing he felt like feeling. 

  
"No way." James said, firm as he squeezed Tony's arm. "I'm not letting you fall."

  
"M'already falling." 

  
"What?" 

  
"I'm falling and you don't care. No one does. Lemme go." 

  
"I do though," Tony thought he heard James whisper. "You're not in your right mind. Let me help." James said, his face so close to Tony's as he leaned forward and cupped his jaw.

  
Tony shook his head. Too fast. Bad idea. He stopped. He looked into James' eyes again and what he saw made him wish he hadn't drunk that last glass, so he could be sure he wasn't just imagining it - the hurt in those blue eyes, the pain in that frowning brow, the concern in the downward tilt of James' mouth. 

  
"When's the last time you even showered?" 

  
"Who knows." Tony snorted. He couldn't help it. He thought he might have a crack-up line somewhere, but he couldn't find it in himself to joke somehow. 

  
"Slept?"

  
"Don't know, don't care," Tony said, pulling his arm free of James' admittedly loose grip and stumbling towards the couch. 

  
He sat down, clumsily enough that he bumped his knee on the side of the coffee table and his whiskey splotched, coating his thumb so much that trickles made their way down his wrist. He didn't feel any of it.

  
“So you wanna _talk_ , talk.” Tony kept his eyes closed, his head resting on the back of the couch. He had no idea what he looked like really - probably nothing pretty, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. How would he.

  
“Oh no, we’re not doing this this way. You gotta sleep, sober up, look like a _human_ again, then we can talk.” 

  
“Heard of liquid courage, Jamesie?” Tony asked, his voice derisive and his brow furrowing as even the sound of it made the blood at his temple pound aggressively. 

  
“Yeah. Also heard of crippling insecurities but I didn’t know we were there yet.” James answered. He hadn’t moved from his spot until then, had stayed put and watched Tony get away from him and slouch on the couch. He moved then, Tony almost out cold now that he was back to being relatively comfortable and the alcohol was becoming too much for his body to handle awake. James walked around the couch and came to crouch before Tony. He watched the way his lashes fluttered as Tony tried to open his eyes again but couldn’t manage it for more than a few seconds as a time. 

  
“I don’t know what you got into your head, but I’m going to get you into bed now.”

  
“Oh you’re good at that. Gettin’ me in’o bed, real good.” Tony said but his voice was barely a murmur, the slice of his words cutting across James’ steadiness, but he shook it off. 

  
“Stop talking,” James whispered. He arranged Tony’s arms in a loose circled around his shoulders and passed his arms under his knees and behind his back, flexing his thighs on the way up. He grunted as the brunt of Tony’s weight bore on him but walked on. He made his way out of the living room, down the hallway and pushed the door of Tony’s bedroom open with his foot. 

  
Once he’d laid Tony down, he got him out of his shoes and pants, took his watch off his wrist and unbuttoned his wrinkled shirt but didn’t take it off. He watched as Tony tossed around a bit before settling on his side, his back to him. James pulled the covers until he could wrap them tight around the man and pinched the bridge of his nose once he was done. He didn’t know what else to do, so he just stayed there, watching Tony for a while. 

  
“I do care, _Anthony_.” He told the back of the man who was now snoring softly, then he got out. 

* * *

  
It was the light of the morning, bright and unobstructed that woke up Tony. It would have been nice, smooth even, if only it didn’t make his head hurt so badly. He winced, he moaned in pain when, remembering how he’d even gotten to bed the night before, he sat up much too quickly and the room spinned around him. 

  
At least he didn’t see James’ texts dance before him anymore. Only the daylight, everywhere, stark. He got up more slowly than he’d sat up and took steps towards the door, hesitant as he didn’t know what he’d found once he was back in the living room, didn’t know if James was still here even. 

  
He was. 

  
He was right there, on the couch Tony had spent the better part of the last forty-eight hours mistreating. Tony looked around him and frowned, there were no glasses, no empty bottles, the shirt he’d discarded the other night was gone, as were the boxes of take-out he’d ordered in and left, half-eaten, just about anywhere. Everything was clean, spotless; it smelled good even. 

  
Guilt made him choke on his next breath, his gaze settling on James’ peaceful face. He looked so young, he _was_ so young. He didn’t deserve this, and they both knew it. Of course they did. Twenty-four was too young to shackle oneself to a drunk old man with no sense of self-preservation. Any age was too young for that really. Tony coughed as the next breath he took brought fresh tears to his eyes, just the feeling of it painful. 

  
He coughed as quietly as he could but James was a light sleeper, Tony had found that out the very first morning after their very first night. Had watched James wake up slowly but surely as soon as Tony had moved in the bed and made his bottle of water fall down his nightstand. 

  
James blinked slowly. He looked around, frowning before he noticed Tony and Tony could see the moment he both realized where he was and remembered why. 

  
“I’m sorry.” Tony blurted out before the other man could say anything. “I’m so sorry. You weren’t meant to see me like this.”

  
“What?” James sat up, pulling the covers off his legs.

  
Tony frowned. “I didn’t know you’d come here.”

  
“And? What does that mean? You get hammered any time you think you’re gonna be alone long enough for it to be discreet?”

  
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  
“Sure. Maybe we can talk about how you shouldn’t be sorry I saw you, but sorry you did this to yourself then?”

  
“Fuck you James, you don’t get to say that. Not anymore”

  
“Oh I don’t? And what the fuck does that even mean, _not anymore_?”

  
“ _We need to talk?_ ” Tony raised his voice, leaning towards James, “ _We need to fucking talk?_ What do you think I am? An idiot? I know what that means you don’t have to _pretend_.” He spat the last word and watched as James’ face scrunched up in confusion before he blanched.

  
“What? No!” James got up. “I… I wanted to talk about me quitting the agency!”

  
“Of course you did. Well you said it, you can leave now, didn’t have to come all the way here for that.” Tony felt like yelling, he said it all in one breath instead and whipped around; too fast again, his head protested wildly; too slow again, James was right there, standing before him and getting in his face.

  
“You got this all wrong--”

  
“Is that so? You leaving the agency of course does not mean you’re done seeing me, huh? It doesn’t mean you’re so over seeing my old ass and are ready to move on and sail more _pristine_ ships.” Tony sneered before trying to move past James. 

  
“Stop walking away!”

  
Tony stopped. There was pain in James’ voice, pain where he had only expected disgust, or indifference. Pain where he’d thought there would only be lassitude. He didn’t turn around though.

  
“I’m not leaving the agency because I don’t want to see you anymore, stupid. I’m quitting because I don’t want there to be money between us when I want a fucking _relationship_ with you. I don’t want to be your _escort_ , I want you to be my _boyfriend_. You’re so… Fuck, Anthony, for God’s sake, just... Look at me, please.” James’ voice was tender as much as it was exasperated, his words too good, too pretty for Tony to believe them, too good for them to be his to act upon, to trust and throw himself at. Tony felt himself choke up.

  
“I can’t.” He said, his tears wetting his voice, making his shoulders sob with trembles. 

  
“I…” James started but stopped, Tony heard him walk behind him, closer and closer, his whole body taut with desperate energy. James stepped forward again, and again, until his chest collided with Tony’s back in a wave that rippled throughout his body for all that it was soft, softer than Tony could fathom. He held his breath as James brushed his nose to the back of his head and neck. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, Anthony. I’m sorry I didn’t realize my words would make you think I didn’t want you because I do.” He paused, his breath ragged in a way that told Tony he, too, was crying by now. “Can I hug you? Please?” 

  
Tony hummed and nodded his head, desperate for the strength of James’ arms, desperate for the physical confirmation of the man’s admission. He let himself cry then, sobbing openly in James’ embrace, melting against his chest. 

  
“I didn’t know I could fall in love in two months, but I did, you made me fall for you, in less time than I ever thought possible. I _love_ you, Anthony, you hear me?” 

  
“I do, I do hear you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was so sure, I--”

  
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s fine.” James turned him around in his arms, until Tony could bury his face in the man’s shoulder, wetting his gray tee-shirt as he breathed in the scent of him, letting himself be grounded by the force he put in the soft words he kept murmuring in his ear and in the intensity he put into the way he held Tony. 

  
“I can’t say it back, I don’t know how.” Tony looked up into James’ eyes, always floored by how safe he felt in this man’s arms. 

  
“It’s okay,” James whispered. “I’m not asking you to, I’m not asking anything but for you to let me love you, and to get to a point where you can love yourself, too.”

  
“Grand plans there, Jamesie.” Tony raised an eyebrow.

  
“Maybe, I’m ready for it though.” James ignored Tony’s attempt at joking it off. His eyes shone with the smile that spread across his lips. He was truly the most beautiful man Tony had ever seen, the most beautiful soul he’d ever had a chance to be around. 

  
“Thank you.”

  
“For what?”

  
“Not running away from my mess? Giving me a shot? Trusting me?” Tony’s breath hiccuped as he talked but if he knew he couldn’t say the word back, he could at least say that.

  
“Thank you for making it possible.” James kept smiling, touching their foreheads together softly, and then, slowly so Tony could stop him if he wanted, he brought their lips together. He didn’t want to. Tony melted into the kiss, a chaste press of their lips, the most tender thing and he almost felt like crying again for it. He almost did, until James leaned back, wrinkled his nose and winked. “Shower time, maybe?”

  
Tony laughed, another thing he shouldn’t be doing with the headache he was sporting. 

  
“Mean.”

  
“But true.” 

  
“Take it with me?” Tony watched James’ face carefully as he asked, sure his eyes were filled with the raw hope he couldn’t hide any longer. His heart expanded in his chest when James nodded right away, no trace of hesitation to be found on his face. 

“Of course.” He bit his lip. “After you, sweetheart.”


End file.
